


i found peace in your violence

by ElasticElla



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Body Horror, Canon Compliant, Dream Sex, F/F, POV Second Person, Podfic Available, Pre-Canon, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25312234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Visions are helpful at least. But dreams – a bastardization of memory and imagination, unclear where the line lays – are utterly useless.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21
Collections: Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	i found peace in your violence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [labocat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/labocat/gifts).



> title from marshmello & khalid's silence

_Fire is burning in your lungs, tears through your innards faster than it ever burned skin. Quynh is out of reach, seems further when you try to see her through the smoke._ _Somehow_ _Quynh isn’t burning, villagers are screaming, pain nearly blinding you._

_The pain is never new, but it always hurts. You’re weak, would gladly accept the sweet temporary relief of death, or even unconsciousness. You ache, and ache, and ache – and wake._

.

You’ve never put much stock in dreams, not that you can remember. Visions are helpful at least. But dreams – a bastardization of memory and imagination, unclear where the line lays – are utterly useless.

Especially those that only serve to throw Quynh in your face, over and over. The guilt crests, as it does every few decades, and you finish up the latest project, turn down the next. (That’s far simpler: Nicky’s job is small, can cleanly do it with Joe and Books, hell, could probably finish it with just Joe.)

There is another point of solace: after a conversation with an all too understanding Booker, you’ve confirmed none of the dreams are visions. (Not that they’ve worked like that before, but the realism is uncanny.)

.

_Quynh is drowning you. Thighs clenched around your head tight, sitting on your face and keeping you pinned in shallow water. A bath tub, perhaps._

_Tongue swollen with water, you lick her. But she’s unresponsive, no matter how deep your tongue presses. You keep trying, go through all the tricks she once enjoyed._

_Quynh sighs, kneeling above you so the water rushes up your nose and into your mouth. You try to shake, to close your mouth, to get up, anything, but none of your muscles react._

 _‘You owe me so much more than this,’ she says._

_You wake before dying, still aren’t good at taking punishments._

.

You stopped looking.

A cursory search every few decades to soothe your conscience, and you don’t deserve to be soothed. Quynh is in an endless cycle of quick deaths – assuming, you swallow – assuming her time hasn’t come.

It’s easy to justify. There are so many people in the world to help. To blame it all on leads gone cold, drop a few hundred drowning deaths as penance.

Quynh wouldn’t have stopped. In the reverse, she would have found you, no matter the cost.

You love her, don’t you?

.

_You’re dancing with Quynh in the post-battle glow, laughing as you twirl her around. There’s a small feast and a bonfire, a warm summer night._

_There’s an abrupt shift, Quynh taking over the dancing, turning you in tight circles. This isn’t how it went, and this night was important. The reason is on the tip of your tongue, disappears entirely when Quynh turns you faster, stomach churning._

‘ _What-?’ you start, don’t need to finish as rain starts to pour down. ‘You can’t corrupt this memory.’_

_Quynh laughs loudly, ‘Maybe this is how it happened.’_

_Suddenly you’re naked on the ground, Quynh thrusting dry fingers into you._

‘ _This isn’t right,’ you murmur, biting off a moan before it can escape._

_She laughs, hand slapping against your vulva. ‘Tell me how it happened then.’_

_You know. You must. You were thinking of the memory not even a minute ago, you have to. You can’t – ‘I don’t know.’_

_Quynh grins, sharklike, ‘Then who’s to say this wasn’t our first time?’_

.

You throw yourself into the ocean.

.

‘ _How long do you think it took?’_

_She looks up from between your thighs, eyes bright and blood dripping down her chin._

_You deserve this – context doesn’t matter._

‘ _How many years before I realized you weren’t coming? How many years before I started hating you, dear heart?’_

_Quynh crawls up your body none too gently, places herself in your lap. She cups your face, smiling sweetly down at you._

‘ _Do you really think this daydream has anything on **my** fantasies? Allow me to elaborate.’ _

_Her hand sinks into your chest, rips out your heart. She pouts as you bleed out, fingers delving around the gaping wound._

‘ _I thought it’d be… bigger. No wonder you didn’t care enough to find me.’_

_The words startle you awake._

_._

Underwater, pragmatism gives way to something like optimism. Swimming along the ocean floor, you can feel her presence. It’s easier to remember your dreams are plagued by a twisted memory here. Quynh isn’t like that, isn’t so needlessly cruel.

Maybe this time, you’ll find her.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] i found peace in your violence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740379) by [ffg_podfics (flowersforgraves)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/ffg_podfics)




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